


Into the Kaleidoscope

by Sylphjay



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Angst, Blood and Injury, Characters turning into monsters, Corruption, Dolls, Hilarity, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Coraline / Alice in Wonderland, M/M, Minor Character Death, Monsters, Mystery, Non-Graphic Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Supernatural Elements, Third Gym (Haikyuu!!), Weirdness, World Travel, creepy elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:11:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26230156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylphjay/pseuds/Sylphjay
Summary: Akaashi has always been content with being a background character in the grand play of life. He's content with working diligently from the sidelines, but everyone in his life seems to think he's wasting his potential to be a star - that he needs to be more passionate, to strive for greater and greater. It's exhausting. At the end of the day he just wants to live an honest life without making waves.He never planned for the possibility of his stuffed owl coming to life before his eyes, nor the strange and forgotten world he stumbles into just beyond his family's closet. It's there that he meets Bokuto Koutarou; a man who's been waiting faithfully for him to be the catalyst that sets their whole world in motion.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

There are certain responsibilities handed down to a vice-captain: keeping morale up, helping to direct drills, and preventing their team from falling into a state of total disrepute.

“All I’m saying, Saru-kun, is that if you did your monkey screech right before they spike, it would totally throw them off.”

“You’re going to get him kicked from the game, Komi-san.” Akaashi’s voice cuts through their quiet plotting despite him being several yards away. He levels them all with a stern look, and they all avert their eyes, looking as innocent as possible.  
  
“...How did he hear that?”

Konoha’s snigger is unmistakable. “Busted…”  
  


Akaashi’s focus drifts away from them as they begin grappling with each other, his eyes instead focused on closing up the locker-room. He flicks the lights off once he’s sure there’s no stragglers still inside.

A loud yelp rings out behind him. Guess Komi got his revenge.

“See you tomorrow, Akaashi! Good work today!”

“Good work.” Akaashi echoes the sentiment with a subdued wave of his hand, watching as the rest of his teammates file out of the gym, their jovial conversations fading into the evening air.

Just like most practices, Akaashi will stay behind and lock up, once he’s sure that nothing’s been left behind. Golden light filters in through the gym windows and bathes everything in warm colors as he does a sweep of the court - the balls and net are all put away, and they’ve swept the floor. Is there anything he’s missing?

Tucked to the side, next to the utility closet, he finds it: a reusable water bottle. Who has a green bottle like this? It must be Konoha’s. He probably set it aside while he was putting the net away and forgot to grab it again. Akaashi pulls out his phone to send him a message.

**Akaashi:** _You left your water bottle in the gym._

**Konoha:** _Oh crap!!! Thx! Can you leave it in my shoe cubby for me?_

**Akaashi:** _Sure_

He slips his phone back in his pocket and picks up the water bottle, before heading out to lock the doors. The evening air is always nice after practice; it tends to get stuffy inside, especially during the warmer months. It’s rare for anyone to want to stay after practice on days like this. Komi will sometimes rope the others into it, but unless they have a game coming up, he’s often vetoed.

The walk back into the school is quiet and pleasant, and Akaashi enjoys these little moments of quiet to himself, where his mind can focus on nothing at all, embracing the end of the day and flitting aimlessly between vague ideas of how he should spend the rest of the night.

_Ah… I should stop by the convenience store before I go home. Mom still needs a new santoku knife._

Somehow or another she’d broken her last one, but she’s been stubbornly refusing to spend money on a new one. Akaashi has always liked her determination to “fix” everything rather than replace them – it’s refreshing – but at the same time, many of the things she’s tried to fix have been a far cry from good as new. Exhibit A: the ceiling light that’s currently only affixed to the ceiling by generous amounts of duct tape and perhaps the grace of God. When it comes to something like a knife, there’s just too great a risk of injury in fixing it improperly.

There aren’t many students still milling about the school; most of them are on their way out the door after club activities or cleaning up. He knows where Konoha’s shoe cubby is without much trouble: third row, sixth one over. It’s not the first time he’s had to make a delivery for him. He slips the water bottle inside and closes it up.

“Akaashi! Is that you?”

Akaashi turns to face a pair of arms holding a comically large stack of flyers, completely obscuring the person behind it. Before he even responds, he quickly steps in and starts taking some of it off their hands, grabbing thick batches of flyers in stages to avoid accidentally toppling them all over. Eventually, after a minute spent doing an odd balancing dance with each other, the person is revealed.

It’s one of their two managers, sporting her usual high ponytail. Her freckled cheeks are red from exertion, but her eyes are as bright as ever.

“Suzumeda-san, I’m surprised you’re still here. I thought you and Shirofuku-san had already gone home.”

Suzumeda laughs a little, sounding a little out of breath. How long has she been carrying all these flyers? Her arms must be tired by now.

“This is for student council business! I need to get these up to the student council room, so they’ll be ready in the morning. We’re kind of on deadline right now… everyone’s running around preparing for class trips… fundraising… it’s a lot.” Her head sags to the side, a friendly but weary smile on her face.

“You’re working hard. I’ll help you carry them up.”

“Really?! Thank you! You’re the best!”

They chat companionably as they head up to the third floor. Suzumeda is an easy person to get along with, and is good at carrying a conversation, which makes her very likeable. It’s no surprise that she wound up on student council, despite already being involved with the volleyball team. Akaashi can’t help but feel guilty for not being as cognizant as he should about what a hard worker she is – he makes a mental note to make extra sure the rest of the team is showing their appreciation properly as well.

“Hey, Akaashi,” Suzumeda pipes up as they arrive at the student council room, her leg sticking out so she can shimmy the door open with her foot. “Have you thought about joining student council next year?”

“Me?” Akaashi blinks in surprise and stares at the back of her head with a slight furrow in his brow. “That’s… no, I haven’t. I’m not suited for that kind of thing, and with volleyball…”

Suzumeda hums in understanding before making a triumphant noise as she gets the door open. Akaashi realizes with a wince that he must sound a little pathetic making that excuse, considering she’s already taking all that on. Not to mention college entrance exams.

“I think you’d be great at it. Why do you think Komi chose you as his vice-captain despite the fact that you’re a second year? Everyone relies on you a lot.” Suzumeda drops her stack on the table with an audible _thud,_ and immediately starts shaking out her arms like they’re limp noodles, a relieved sigh escaping her. “Ah, just set them here, this is fine.”

He does as instructed and sets his stack down beside hers with a bit more care. “I’m not that special, I think you’re overestimating me a bit.” His tone is confident – he’s not saying it to be self-deprecating or fish for compliments, he’s simply very aware of his place in the grand scheme of things. Akaashi knows he can get things done when they’re asked of him, but he doesn’t have the leadership qualities or _charisma_ required to be in that kind of position. Frankly, just the knowledge that he’ll be expected to be captain next year is terrifying, especially since the majority of the team as it is now will be graduating. He’ll be the only third year, left to look after a whole group of fresh faces.

The response just gets a knowing smile. Suzumeda rubs the back of her neck and looks out the window. “I… worry about you sometimes, Akaashi.”

“You… you do?”

“Yeah.” She looks at him now, leveling him with a discerning gaze that makes him feel like he’s made of transparent glass. “You’re talented, you’re smart, you’re competent, but you-“ she lifts her hands up and wiggles her fingers in an odd way, like she’s grasping for words she can’t find. “It’s like… you’re forcing yourself to be a side character when you’re the main character!”

Akaashi is so taken aback by the comparison that he can’t help but laugh, his hand instinctively moving over his mouth. “What…? This isn’t a TV show. If anyone, I feel like you would be the main character, Suzumeda-san.”

Suzumeda waves her hand at him, with a look that feigns a desire to reject the statement while simultaneously saying _yeah, we both know that I am, c’mon._

“Sorry, I don’t mean to say weird things. It just feels almost like…” her expression turns contemplative. “Like you’re… waiting for something.”

A brief silence stretches between them. The only sound that can be heard is the faint whir of air from the vents. Akaashi faintly registers his eyes narrowing in confusion, while his brain rapidly tries to process the meaning behind Suzumeda’s words. Waiting for something? What would he be waiting for? The sentence makes an unnerving amount of sense in some deep innate corner of his psyche, but his lack of understanding of _why_ throws him into a fit of introspection.

_Am I unsatisfied somehow? I’ve always been comfortable playing a minor role in things, I don’t need more than that. If anything, being thrown into the foreground seems overwhelming…am I waiting for some spectacular moment without realizing it? No, but if Suzumeda-san noticed something..._

His inner turmoil must show on his features, because Suzumeda stifles a smile. “I’m just thinking out loud. I won’t trap you here when you probably have a train to catch… all I’m saying is that I don’t want you to miss opportunities by putting yourself in the background! You could be a star, Akaashi. Why wait for someone else to do it when it could be you?”

-

Suzumeda’s words echo around his brain on the train ride home, occupying his thoughts as he watches the last of the day’s light fade into the horizon.

It feels foolish to keep coming back to it – a normal person would probably just feel grateful for Suzumeda’s consideration, attempt to slightly alter their perception of themselves and then carry on like normal – but Akaashi isn’t exactly normal. His propensity to self-examine and analyze every little thing keeps his mind constantly busy; it’s a quality he possesses that he’s well aware of.

_Am I not applying myself enough? Student council would look great when applying for jobs and such, but having all that attention focused on myself would distract me from volleyball and studying. Or maybe I’m just not passionate enough? I don’t think I’m a dispassionate person… but not everyone can be like Suzumeda-san and throw themselves wholeheartedly into everything. Ah, that sounds like a poor excuse, doesn’t it?_

He catches the eye of an older woman on the train, and immediately feels himself growing sheepish. She looks concerned for him. Is he making odd expressions? Must be, it usually happens without him noticing when he’s deep in thought.

A feminine voice echoes throughout the train cars: **_now arriving… please stand clear of the doors._ **

****

The walk home is peaceful and quiet, the streetlights lighting his way in the darkening twilight. A wide stone bridge marks the entrance to his familiar stretch of suburbs, rows of houses stretching as far as the eye can see. Akaashi’s stomach rumbles intermittently; he hopes they’re having something spicy tonight.

“I’m home,” he greets as he steps through the door, his hand bracing himself on the wall as he toes his shoes off. He can hear his parents talking in the kitchen, their voices mixing with the sounds coming from the TV. Judging by the comical sound effects, it must be more of the raunchy game shows his mom has been into lately. He’s never understood the appeal.

“Keiji!” His mom’s voice pipes up over their conversation. “Go put your bag away and join us! It’s started already!”

“I don’t think he cares for it, dear… welcome home, Keiji, we’re having mapo tofu tonight.”

“With a twist!”

“You’re going to scare him off by saying that.”

The sound of his parents’ cheerful banter fades into quiet as Akaashi ascends the stairs up into his room. Family photos line the upstairs hallway around each room, most of them obscured by the darkness. There’s one his eyes always fall on when he comes up here, visible despite him not turning on a light yet.

It’s an old photo, taken around the time he first started getting into volleyball, about the age of six. He’s in a line with a group of other kids – all of them sporting the same “Little Spikers” t-shirts from a summer camp they went to. Akaashi was pretty small back then, so he’s seated square in the front, and he looks completely unprepared for the photograph.

Not that the other kids are much better. There’s one with his mouth open and mid-blink. Akaashi can’t help but wonder why his parents kept such an unflattering memory hung on their wall.

Oh well, it’s a nice token of his childhood from when volleyball was new and strange to him, back before his parents worried it was consuming too much of his life. They often fret that spending so much time on a sport is the reason he hasn’t reached the top of his class yet. 

He steps into his room and pushes the door open, but it’s stopped by something soft getting squished underneath. A quick investigation reveals his old stuffed owl, one of its wings jammed beneath the door. Its big yellow eyes stare up at him, as expressionless as ever despite its plight.

_How did you get all the way over here?_ Akaashi leans down and wiggles it free. One of his parents was probably cleaning, or maybe his mom sneakily tried to get rid of it again. She always tells him he’s too old for stuffed animals, and while she’s probably right, it helps him sleep so he enjoys having it around.

When did he even get it? Akaashi can’t remember that far back, but he has a vague recollection that it was a gift. The mix of black, white and brown feathers have lost a bit of their luster over the years - its white face and belly a bit yellowish now. Maybe he should try to wash it one of these days. 

Akaashi tosses it back on his bed and sets his bag down next to his desk, before stretching his arms over his head with a big yawn. _Better get changed before I head down._

His parents’ conversation has ended by the time he returns; instead his mom is staring intently at the TV, a loud cackle erupting from her when some unfortunate victim is launched into what looks like a pool full of pudding. Akaashi cringes.

There’s a bowl of food already waiting for him, so Akaashi takes a seat at the table.

“How was school?” His dad’s hands are folded under his chin, a laid back but nevertheless expectant look on his face.

“It went well.” Akaashi takes a drink of water before continuing. “Today was a defense day at practice. Helped Suzumeda-san – our manager – with something for the student council.”

“And your test? The scores came out today, right?” At that, Akaashi feels his mom’s attention switch from the TV to him, her own expectant gaze perfectly mirroring her husband’s. _Subtle,_ he thinks to himself. Some part of himself (a petty part) decides to take a bite of food before answering, preserving their suspense with each chew.

It’s only after he fully swallows that he answers. “I was third in my class. Missed two.”

Both of them lean back with a groan, his father shaking his head and his mother clenching her fists on the table, that competitive fire in her eyes fully ablaze.

“It was those two again, wasn’t it?!” She waves her hand vaguely, expecting Keiji to understand her meaning. “Class prez and… Hiyori-chan?”

Akaashi just nods, focusing on his food rather than the two of them. He can feel himself mentally disconnecting from the conversation, his mind going blank as he eats. His ears pick up the sound of the TV – some kind of upbeat jingle is playing. They must be switching games.

“Those two again! You should really watch what they do, Keiji. I’m sure you could blow them out of the water if you put enough effort in.”

_Well… it’s not like I can get greater than full marks, anyway._ And to be honest, he doesn’t feel very competitive when it comes to grades. Certainly not about the basic pop quiz they get every week. Of course he wants to do well, but he’s not going to resent those girls for consistently doing better than him. Hayori Wakahara studies like it’s her calling in life, and the class president has a natural talent, something Akaashi couldn’t possibly claim for himself.

His father taps his fingers on the table, his other hand stroking the stubble on his chin. “That’s a good idea. It’s best to try and know everything you can, so you’re prepared for the entrance exam. Being at the top of your class is the best way to secure a top university.”

“And letters of recommendation!”

“Yes- are you listening, Keiji?”

Akaashi nods, but he’s really more focused on getting an extra pepper in with his bite of tofu. They have this same conversation every time test grades come out, when Akaashi consistently gets third (or, scandalously, fourth) in the class. There was a time in middle school where he _did_ rank top of his class, and he wonders if that’s the reason behind the expectations that are on his shoulders now. “I’ll speak to them after class tomorrow and see if they want to study together sometime. Or at least give me some pointers for studying more efficiently.”

His father nods approvingly, but his mother just mutters something under her breath, something about _little punks probably cheating… why I ought to-_

It’s probably better to not probe into that.

Once he’s finished with his dinner, Akaashi takes all the empty dishes to the sink to clean them, and then bids his parents goodnight. They’ll probably be up for a while watching TV. The muffled sound of the show creeps through the floorboards as he climbs the stairs.

He doesn’t dislike his parents. It’s obvious how hard they work for the family and for _him,_ but at the same time their presence alone is overwhelming. The weight of their expectations, their hopes — they can be heavy, especially since they’re already expectations he already holds for himself. It’d be nice for them to say _you’ve done enough, Keiji. We’re so proud of you._

Akaashi turns on the light to his room, closes the door and flops backward onto his bed. He spins his owl in his hands as his eyes idly trace the lines of texture on his ceiling. _No… it’s probably for the best that they act like this. I’m not a natural talent like the class president. If I’m not pushed, I might become a lazy, useless person. I just have to keep doing what I can._

He closes his eyes. _Maybe that’s the real reason I didn’t consider Suzumeda-san’s suggestion. People having all these expectations and hopes for me… it’s stressful._

What’s so bad about being a background character? The main character gets the spotlight, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the cast isn’t working hard, or even harder. The real difference is that the main character is in the spotlight the whole time, subject to criticism, derision, everyone’s wishes and self-projections…

Akaashi rolls to the side, one arm under his head and one loosely holding onto his owl. _I should stop thinking about this._

_Tick. Tick. Tick_.

A sound stirs him, and Akaashi’s eyes snap open, his body twitching with a pulse of adrenaline that quickly fades. His eyes are met with a dark room, the only light coming from the digital clock sitting on his desk – a red glare that makes him squint. It takes a moment for his mind to catch up with his body, but the time on the clock fills him with dread. _00:31? Crap… I passed out. I still need to do my homework._

He sits up and immediately regrets it, his head throbbing in protest. Rubbing his temples, he tries to remember how much work he was assigned. It’s probably not much, but falling asleep before it was finished was very careless of him. It’ll be hard to get a good night’s sleep tonight.

His hands fumble around his sheets as he stands up, relying on the touch to find his way while his eyes adjust. _I don’t remember turning off the light… maybe mom did it before she went to bed?_ He wishes she would’ve woken him up instead, but there’s no way she could’ve known about his mistake. Nor does he want her to.

_I shouldn’t turn on my room light this late. I’ll just use my desk lamp._

Taking careful step after careful step, Akaashi makes his way to his desk without accidentally tripping on something. He can see enough now that he can make out the faint outline of his lamp, and after a few fumbling grabs he flicks the switch.

Nothing happens.

He tries again.

Still nothing.

_Damn…what timing for the bulb to be dead._ Thankfully, he thinks he still has his old headlamp in his cabinet somewhere, from back when he was a kid and used to read pirate stories under his covers when he was supposed to be sleeping. _I’m supposed to be sleeping now, so I guess things haven’t changed too much. That bulb should still be good._

He’s turning towards the cabinet when he hears a sound.

**_Crrrk. Crrrk. Crrreeaak._ **

****

Akaashi flinches, the sudden noises spooking him. His head whips towards the door, which is opening with stunted, jerking movements. He doesn’t move a single inch, his eyes just watching the door, waiting for one of his parents to come in, surely to chew him out for being up so late.

But where he expects to see the head of one of his parents, there’s nothing there. Akaashi steps a pace back from his desk, staring hard into the darkness for answers. It’s a little late for his mom to be playing a prank on him, but there’s a first time for everything.

Slowly, his gaze drops down to the floor and his eyebrows furrow in confusion at what he sees.

It’s his stuffed owl, standing on its own two feet. Its eyes look like they could be staring right at him, or maybe _through_ him. It’s a little unnerving.

_Didn’t I fall asleep with you? How did you get out there?_

Akaashi takes a step toward it and the owl begins to move. Its whole body shudders, and it extends one wing to him in a jerky, unnatural way, before waving it in a _come hither_ motion.

_I must be lucid dreaming._ This conclusion comes to him approximately 0.34 seconds after he witnesses the owl’s movements. _Strange… I’ve never lucid dreamt before. I hope I’m not actually sleepwalking. I don’t want to fall down the stairs or something._

It’s still creepy to watch, but considering it’s a dream he might as well go along with it. Akaashi steps toward the owl. “Do you… want me to follow you?”

Even in the dark, he can see something glimmer in the owl’s cheap plastic eyes. _Guess that was the right answer_. It beckons him one more time, before it begins marching down the hallway, in a manner similar to how a marionette might walk in the hands of an amateur.

Akaashi follows, and the moment he steps out of his room, he stops dead in his tracks, his head swiveling around in shock.

The hallway is much longer than he remembers. His parents’ bedroom is now _far_ to his right, enveloped in a gloom of darkness so thick he can barely make it out. He takes a step toward it if only out of curiosity, but as soon as he does, his lungs constrict in his chest, like the air is being pulled out of him. Akaashi immediately steps back and wheezes, clutching his chest with one hand as he regains his composure.

_Okay… not going that way._

He turns to the other end of the hallway. There, his owl is waiting patiently for him, looking up at him in a way he’s somehow able to read as curiosity. Once it sees that Akaashi is paying attention, it continues its march forward.

Again, Akaashi follows. Each slow step forward brings something new to his attention – a faint breeze he feels on his face; the sound of something tinkling just behind his ears, no matter which direction he turns. As they walk, tiny balls of gold and green light begin to float up from the floorboards, illuminating them and the familiar decorations on the wall.

Without thinking much of it, Akaashi glances at a picture on the wall. He doesn’t recognize the faces on it. The picture itself is casting a shadow now, and the shadow stretches all the way from the wall diagonally to the floor, where it’s amalgamated into the oppressive darkness behind him. A cursory glance reveals that this is true for everything that casts a shadow in this hallway – the wall lights, the décor, even Akaashi. The further he goes, the harder it is to take a step, like he’s being pulled back.

As if sensing his struggle, the owl turns around once more, and Akaashi notices that there’s a gold glow coming from its footsteps. A fainter one forms a halo around its shape, growing in strength the closer to the end of the hallway they get. Just by focusing on the owl, Akaashi feels that force pulling him recede and his steps come easier.

_Guess I should focus on it._

They reach the end of the hallway and Akaashi looks up properly. It’s the family closet, where they keep coats and some miscellaneous cleaning supplies. Roots are stretching out from the doorframe in all directions like veins, and when Akaashi dares to touch one he swears he can feel it pulse underneath his fingertips. It’s kind of… squishy.

With one big leap, the owl jumps up, nearly spooking Akaashi out of his skin as it lands on his shoulder, and then points toward the door with an aggressive thrust of its wing.

“I’m guessing… you want to go into the closet,” he whispers, his tone deadpan. The owl nods fervently, taking his statement of the obvious at face value. 

“Right. It’s just coats and things, though.” Akaashi reaches forward and twists the handle to the door. As he pulls it open, he feels his heart rate spiking for reasons he doesn’t understand, and a chill creeping over his skin that sets his hairs on end. Anticipation puts his heartbeat in his ears, his breaths suddenly loud in his head.

The breeze rushes out of the growing crack in the door, making him squint and steady himself against it, and the owl clutches onto him to avoid being blown off. The door swings open fully and the sight before him wipes his mind clean.

It’s a huge… poppy flower?

The roots that stretch out from the door culminate at the base of it, disappearing under the broad red petals that are easily longer than his arm. In its entirety, the flower takes up the whole closet floor.

His owl immediately starts smacking him like his skull is a bongo drum, its excitement clear in the way it bounces on his shoulders.

“I get it! Enough!” Akaashi pulls the owl off his shoulders and stares into its eyes like a stern parent. “If you hit me, I’m just going to go back to bed.”

That’s clearly an effective threat. It goes stiff as a board and somehow manages to give him _puppy-dog_ _eyes_.

_Am I… chastising a stuffed animal right now?_ Akaashi can’t help but sigh at the ridiculousness of it all. “Okay… long as you understand.”

Judging by the (now sullen) pointing of the stuffed animal, it seems he’s supposed to go inside. It feels weird to step on a flower, but it’s impossible to place his feet anywhere else when the poppy takes up so much space. As he moves inward, those floating lights from before follow him in, settling down on the tips of the petals and the ring of stamen that surround the very center of the flower. Not knowing what he’s supposed to be doing, Akaashi decides to take a seat inside the flower. He is surprised to find the cushion of petals very comfortable.

It’s when he sits down that he notices something glimmering in the center of the flower. Peering forward, he blinks in surprise at what he finds.

It’s a white opal, all the colors of the rainbow shifting inside of it as he moves. It’s beautiful - and the last thing he expected to find inside a giant poppy that happens to be flourishing inside his family’s closet. 

He touches it.

And the floor gives out from underneath him.

In that moment, all he can register is the feeling of himself falling backwards deeper into the closet, the light of the flower rising up before him. The last thing he sees before darkness envelops his vision is his stuffed owl, its wings extended out to him as it surges forward after him.

Akaashi is falling – or more accurately, sliding. He’s sliding backwards on his back down something smooth, and he feels his shoulder impact something solid as the slide(?) twists and turns, jostling him until he’s so dizzy he can’t tell which way is up or down, right or left. The instinctive need to right himself before he lands on his head makes him grasp at air and squirm in fear, a strangled cry escaping him as he continues,

Down,

And down,

And down,

And down…

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but eventually he feels something soft fall into his arms, its fluffy texture so familiar he recognizes it easily.

“OWL! WHAT’S HAPPENING?”

And the moment he yells that, the owl bursts apart.

The light that pours out from its shattered form is so bright that he squeezes his eyes shut against it, but when he manages to squint them open again all his breath leaves his lungs, his panic momentarily forgotten.

Golden wings arc out before him, and the stuffed animal in his hands dissolves into little particles of that same golden light, coalescing into the form of what looks like a big, great horned owl. The light is shifting, aethereal, like it’s made out of smoke, and when the talons form this spirit-owl flexes them, like it's stretching them after a long time spent asleep.

Akaashi hits a bump, and then he’s soaring through the air, tumbling in circles. From the light his owl is giving off, he can just barely see what looks like a huge sheet of translucent soap film below him before he collides with it back-first. The film stretches and stretches as it slows his momentum, until finally it breaks free, and Akaashi tumbles to the ground in a heap, face down in a big patch of what feels like moss.

“Ow.”

He decides to lay there for a good long while, waiting for the world to stop spinning and for when he no longer feels like he’s about to hurl. Everything aches – but frankly he’s just glad to be in one piece – it’s likely he would’ve broken a bone if whatever he’d collided with back there hadn’t slowed him down.

At last he picks himself up, and he’s greeted by greenery in all directions, lit up by an occasional lamppost. There’s a cobblestone pathway nearby, just adjacent to a babbling brook.

_Where am I…?_ Akaashi looks around in all directions, but there’s no sign of where he came from. Behind him is just a huge stone wall. _It kind of looks like a botanical garden… though it’s overgrown._ He can make out a tiny shrine sitting off the path, but it looks weathered, like it could break any minute.

When he looks up, he sees that same golden owl staring down at him from the branches of a tree. It perks up when it notices him looking, and it appears to puff up as if to look bigger.

Akaashi feels his whole face scrunch up in displeasure as he looks at it. Maybe big golden spirit-owls that pop out of stuffed animals can’t talk, but he can’t help but feel put-off for being made to go through that (frankly terrifying) slide with no warning. There’s a very real possibility he could’ve broken something! And now he doesn’t know where he is.

Whether that owl notices his soured mood is beyond him, but it spreads its wings and starts flying down in the direction the stone path leads, leaving a trail of smoky golden light in its wake that eventually fades.

A sigh escapes him and he stretches his back with a few painful but satisfying pops. Akaashi guesses it’s time to follow the owl again.

Some things stick out to him about this place as he walks, the first being that the sky is dark, but he can’t make out a single star above him. It’s just… a dark blue that eventually meets the trees above. The next is that while there’s a creek right next to him, he doesn’t hear the familiar croak of frogs or buzz of flies. It’s quiet, just the sound of water keeping him company.

Eventually the path opens up and there’s a break in the trees. Akaashi notices some statues here and there, but there’s something off about them – most of them are toppled or hunched over, and they look like they’re made of charcoal rather than stone. He delicately runs his hand over one near him, and just that is enough to break its arm off, which falls to the ground and crumbles into the grass.

Akaashi’s eyes widen and he swiftly walks away from the crumbled statue like there’s someone waiting in the bushes to arrest him for vandalism. _That was delicate!_

The path slopes up onto a hill, and Akaashi notices more of those charcoal statues lining it. In fact, there’s whole heaps of them piled around the base of the hill, all of them only humanoid in the most basic way. Light from the lampposts illuminates some, but it’s hard to tell just how many there are.

On one of those lampposts is the owl, once again watching him as he makes his way up the inclining path, stepping over broken pieces of these statues all the while.

“What is all this?” No answer. Right, owl spirits can’t talk.

Eventually he stumbles upon what his owl has led him to: a big boulder nestled against a large elm tree. The owl spirit alights on top of the boulder and flaps its wings at him, looking down at the ground and then up at Akaashi again, expectantly.

Akaashi follows its gaze downward, and he’s met with yet another statue. This one is a bit bigger than the others and is holding onto its shape better; it’s sitting with its back to the boulder, its head hung forward and one knee up like it’s just sleeping. Akaashi feels a breeze pass over him as he looks at it, and the leaves of the elm tree rustle and shake.

“…This statue? Is this what you led me to?”

The owl nods its head and flaps its wings again.

A silence passes, and Akaashi grimaces. What is he supposed to do with this?

As if sensing his unease, the owl stares at him, and Akaashi’s eyes widen as a feeling courses through him that he can’t describe. Something about that look… it’s as though this strange creature has been waiting a long, long time for this moment, and Akaashi feels as though something very important is being entrusted to him.

He just doesn’t know what.

The owl pitches forward, and before Akaashi can even yell or attempt to catch it, it falls directly _into_ the statue, passing through it until the very last wisp of golden light is out of sight.

Akaashi inhales.

Exhales.

Cracks spread all over the statue like spiderwebs, shimmering golden light seeping out of them, growing bigger and brighter as the cracks snake their way around. Huge chunks of black charcoal crumble and fall away, turning to dust on the ground. Akaashi doesn’t breathe as he witnesses it, can’t even think as bit by bit, the statue crumbles to reveal…

Skin. Human skin.

Or at least, mostly human.

Akaashi, belatedly realizing with _horror_ what is happening before him immediately scrambles back, falling over in shock onto the ground. He raises one hand in front of him, both to shield himself from the golden light and to protect himself against… whatever the _hell_ is coming out of that statue.

“Oh my god, what the– n-no- no way-“ his words are scrambled up, flooding out of him unbidden. His heartbeat thunders in his ears, all his hairs on end as he _waits. A person?! There’s a person in there!_

The statue crumbles fully, and the _man_ inside immediately lunges forward, his arms spread wide like he’s going to grab him.

Akaashi is not proud of the shriek that he lets out here, but he has enough survival instincts to immediately reach for the closest rock, ready to bash this freak’s brains in the second he gets within striking range.

The man immediately falls flat on his face.

…

…

Akaashi cautiously gets up into a crouch, and the moment he does, the man pops up again. He reaches forward to grasp Akaashi by the shoulders with a grip that makes him stiffen up like a board, his head turtling into his neck in a vain attempt to avoid him.

The man’s eyes are a striking gold, his smile like he just _struck_ gold, and his hair a spiked-up combination of black and white that surely can’t be natural. Black, white and brown feathers poke out from under his ragged shirt and cover his visible bare skin in uneven patches. Akaashi can spot a few poking out of his head too – little fuzzy things that are hardly distinguishable from his hair.

“YOU CAME!”

A bright, cheery voice, warm as the sunshine and happy like a child, impacts him in a wave and leaves him stunned.

“I KNEW YOU WOULD! I KNEW FROM THE START!”

Akaashi can only blink, struck dumb and mute by the pure force that is this man.

_What?_

“My name’s Bokuto! Let’s work hard together from now on, Akaashi!”

Something tells him he’s in for a long ride.

* * *

[Artist's Twitter](https://twitter.com/elsket)


	2. Chapter 2

“Eh? Eh? Akaashi… what are you doing with that rock? H-hey… WAIT! WAIT! DON’T HIT ME!”

There it is again. The recognition. Akaashi narrows his eyes, his rock still poised at the ready to bust his skull open. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”

Bokuto is still cowering a little, his hands covering his head, but he perks up immediately. “I told you, I’m Bokuto! Bokuto Koutarou! And of course I know you, Akaashi! I’ve been waiting for you!” There’s a sense of pride in his voice that confuses Akaashi – it conveys a familiarity that they don’t have.  _ Why is he acting like he knows me? _

__

“I… don’t even know you. What do you mean you’ve been waiting for me?”

The question makes Bokuto furrow his brows, and he releases Akaashi’s shoulders to strike a contemplative pose, his hand forming an  _ L  _ on his chin. “Hmm… that’s a funny thing for you to say, Akaashi! Especially when I’ve been with you all along!” He suddenly hunches his shoulders, beginning to look a little lost as if he doesn’t understand it himself.

_ This guy is… quite animated. _

__

“Well… I guess it wasn’t  _ me,  _ me. But it was me! You knew I was there all along, didn’t you Akaashi?! That’s why you trusted and followed me!” Bokuto puts his hands on his hips, proudly deciding everything himself without a hint of Akaashi’s input on the matter.

It takes a moment for the gears to start in Akaashi’s mind – let alone  _ turn _ – but eventually he puts two and two together. “You were… the owl.”

A vigorous nod.

“My… stuffed owl.”

Another nod, somehow even more vigorous.

For the sake of his sanity, Akaashi makes the executive decision to suspend his disbelief. He slowly lowers the rock, much to Bokuto’s relief and delight. “…Right. Okay. You are the stuffed owl I’ve had for years.” Just saying it makes him feel ridiculous. “And you’ve been waiting for me… why?”

Bokuto folds his arms and nods to himself. “That’s my Akaashi! I knew you would understand everything right away… so cool.”

_ I don’t understand a thing, but whatever. _

“So you can get us out of here! We can’t get out without someone from the  _ outside, _ you know. That’s how it works, apparently. So I went and got you!” And with that Bokuto points at Akaashi with great flourish, like it’s some kind of  _ ta-da  _ moment for a live studio audience. Without even thinking Akaashi pushes his hands back down, and the prickly feeling of sparsely growing feathers pressing against his hand is weird enough to make him regret the contact.  _ He really has  _ feathers _ growing out of his skin. What? _

“No thank you. I don’t really understand, but I’m not really interested in getting pulled into something I didn’t consent to being involved with.”

The immediate deadpan refusal seems to do physical damage to Bokuto. He doubles over like he’s been punched, his whole face contorted in shock. “WHA-HUH?! Whaddya mean no, Akaashi?! You’re joking, right? Right?!”

Akaashi feels his face scrunch up.  _ Did he really not consider the possibility that I’d say no? Why would I want to get caught up in something this bizarre? _

__

His gaze trails away from Bokuto and he looks out into the gloom where the charcoal effigies still lie piled on top of each other in heaps. Their limbs poke out unnaturally in all directions, cracked and crumbling. Perhaps if he were younger, more childlike and still enraptured with tales of adventures and heroism, he’d agree. This  _ is _ a dream after all, but the discomfort he felt from that damn slide into this place still lingers in his mind.  _ I’d rather just go back to sleep. Or wake up, I guess. _

__

A glance back reveals Bokuto looking at him expectantly. The fact that this guy is even speaking to him is insane. He was a  _ statue, _ or rather… a stuffed owl, then a spirit owl,  _ then _ a statue _ , _ and now an excitable feathered person.

“I’m sorry, Bokuto-san. You’ll have to go find someone else. I’m definitely not the one you’re looking for.” He gives a short, polite bow and starts to back away.

“Akaashi–“

“It was nice meeting you- actually, not really. Don’t just grab people when you first meet them, it’s terrible.” He keeps a hold on the rock, intending to make a point that he’ll use it if he has to.

“A…Akaashi!”

With that, Akaashi begins to turn away. “I’m going to go back to my room and wake up. So goodbye.”

In that split second that Akaashi looks at him properly, Bokuto looks like a puppy who’s been kicked. His whole large frame is sagging forward, a pitiful little pout to his bottom lip and a grumpy furrow in his brow. If he wasn’t so big, Akaashi would think he was a little kid who got his toy taken away. It’s a bit off-putting.

Well, it’s not any of his concern. He starts walking back down the path, his footsteps echoing off the cobblestone. He’ll be happy to get away from all these creepy effigies, whatever they are. They’re unnerving.

A second pair of footsteps joins his.

Akaashi doesn’t stop. “Please don’t follow me, Bokuto-san.”

“What kind of first meeting was that!” Is he… whining? How old is this person? “It was supposed to be something more like… Akaashi! I’ve been waiting for you! And then you’d say something like…” he suddenly clears his throat, his voice lowering in pitch and taking on a dramatic flair. “Bokuto-san…! At last we meet! I’ll do all I can to help you, you can count on me!”

Bokuto mimics the sound of them both cheering and slaps his hands together like they’re high fiving. Once again Akaashi feels his face contort into a grimace.

“Please don’t imagine me saying weird things. I don’t even know you.” Even if Bokuto  _ was _ his stuffed owl, that means nothing.  _ Nothing aside from maybe I should’ve listened to mom about getting rid of it. _

Akaashi steps over the broken pieces of charcoal littered around the bottom of the hill and pretends to not hear the frustrated groans coming from behind him. He spares a glance to some of the intact effigies illuminated by streetlight, wondering if people are going to start popping out of each of them. The thought is immediately ejected from his mind for the sake of his health; that would be a horrifying sight to behold.

A broken off leg rolls away from him when he accidentally kicks it and it crumbles into the grass a few feet away. He keeps walking.

“You can’t go back... not that way, at least.”

The seriousness of the assertion is  _ almost _ enough to make him stop; his footsteps falter for just a moment.  _ Can’t go back? What does he mean?  _ Dread creeps like icy hands over his heart but he shakes it off, shoving down the anxiety before it can fester. That slide… it’s true that it’d be difficult to try and climb it, but there’s bound to be another way back up. If not, all he needs to do is wake himself back up.

Akaashi holds out one arm and pinches himself. The pain makes him wince, but nothing changes about his surroundings.  _ Dammit. _

Maybe he really does need to go back to his room? That’s rational, but potentially a big problem.

A big problem that becomes even bigger when Akaashi is faced with the sheer rock wall again. He traced his steps perfectly, but now that he’s staring up at it, he’s left scratching his head in confusion. There  _ should _ be a hole or  _ something _ to show where he came out of, but he can’t make out anything of the sort. In fact, the place where he thinks the hole should logically be is completely obscured by tree branches, the thickness of their canopies completely blocking out the sky above.

“What the hell…” the words are out before he registers them, his tone betraying his befuddlement.

“I told you!” Bokuto is trotting up behind him, and forces himself into Akaashi’s line of sight, his arms folded and an impatient frown on his face. “You can’t go back out the gate once you come in. It’s a one-way trip. If it was that easy, I wouldn’t have needed to go find you, dummy.”

Akaashi grimaces; he’s not ready to accept that just yet. He presses his palms against the stone and feels around, peering up into the trees at different angles to get a better sense for it all.

But no matter how much he looks, it’s futile. With a heavy sigh he eventually swivels on his heel to look back at Bokuto, who immediately perks up.

“Okay. So, assuming I can’t go back the way I came… how  _ do _ I get out of here?”

Bokuto immediately looks sheepish, his head ducking down and his fingertips pressing together. Once again he looks like a child, but this time it’s one about to tell his parents that he did something horribly bad - like shit his pants in church. Akaashi feels the dread return.

“Well… uh… about that…”

“Spit it out, please.”

Bokuto stiffens, and quickly blurts: “YOU CAN’T! I mean… you  _ can! _ But not here. We have to get to the castle. That’s where the exit is.”

_ Castle? _

__

Akaashi’s eyebrows lift up and he blinks slowly at him, doing his best to portray the amount of _ are you kidding me _ that he’s feeling right now.

“A castle.”

“Yep!”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. Bokuto’s enthusiasm isn’t making this better in the slightest. Is he dead? Did he die in his sleep and somehow end up transported to an RPG world? First, it’s stuffed animals walking, then it’s feathered people popping out of statues, and now he has to go find a castle.

Akaashi makes a mental note to not have mapo tofu before bed ever again. It clearly is the source of weird, vivid dreams he can’t wake up from.

Without a moment wasted, Akaashi lifts his hands up and smacks them against his cheeks with as much force as he’s willing to use against himself. The pain is piercing and hot, and he immediately sucks a breath in through his teeth.

“WAA-KAASHI!” Bokuto’s hands are up in an instant, his face the picture of horror. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!”

Akaashi waits a few seconds, his eyes squeezed closed. The pain dulls into a persistent throb. He waits a few more seconds. Bokuto is fretting over him now, grasping him by the shoulders and shaking him to and fro.

_ What the hell do I have to do to wake up from this? _

__

With a huff he detaches himself from Bokuto’s panicked hold, his hands instinctively reaching to tug at his fingers. Thoughts swirl in his mind, confused and growing uneasy.  _ This isn’t how it’s supposed to be… that should work. It shouldn’t feel so real, like it’s– _

__

“This isn’t a dream, y’know.”

Akaashi looks up at him now, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise as Bokuto verbalizes what his own mind has been dancing around. Bokuto holds his gaze all the while, a calm sureness to his disposition that Akaashi’s not expecting. It’s so steady that it quells whatever instinctive rebuttal he might’ve thought up, in favor of actually letting the words sink in.

_ This isn’t a dream. _

__

Bokuto’s shoulders relax a little, the hint of an apologetic smile on his face. “You’ve been trying to wake yourself up, right? It’s not gonna work. There’s only one way out of here.” He lifts his arm up and points behind them, back towards the hill surrounded by effigies, and further beyond it. Akaashi follows the direction of it, but it’s impossible to gauge the scope of the distance. There’s no sign of anything like a castle from here – but the darkness beyond the lampposts is smothering.

“The exit’s that way. The castle’s the middle of everything. We’re on the far outskirts right now.”

Akaashi listens, makes a noise of acknowledgement, and then lowers himself into a squat right there on the stone path, his hands steepled in front of his face. And then he just breathes.

Bokuto blinks down at him before he just takes a squat right next to him, his chin in his hands as he watches Akaashi have a quiet crisis.

A thousand thoughts swirl in Akaashi’s mind – confused, incredulous, damned. It’s true that everything he’s witnessing and  _ felt _ up until now is far too real to be something his brain conjured up; he’s just not this imaginative, but the prospect of this being  _ real _ is far too much for him to grapple with either. He dares not try to unpack all of the possibilities, so he shoves all of them into a little box in his mind and buries them deeply. The  _ logistics _ of this place don’t matter if he’s truly stuck without a way out; it doesn’t change what he needs to do: properly get out of here.

“Okay,” he breathes. Saying it helps steady himself, like an anchor dropped into a turbulent sea. “I understand.”

Bokuto’s eyebrows pinch in concern, an awkwardly surprised smile on his face. “Oh! Uh… you’re… taking this well! That’s good?” Akaashi’s posture suggests otherwise, but Bokuto latches onto the positive assurance he’s given. “You handled that better than I thought!”

“I’m not ready to believe this is real life, quite yet.” Akaashi glances at him as he stands up, and his eyes scan their immediate area. He can feel the stone beneath his feet, the air in his lungs, and when he reaches out to a nearby tree branch the texture of the leaves is unmistakable. “However… this is all far too real to just be a figment of my imagination. I’m not going to trust what you say outright, Bokuto-san… but I’ll compromise. This place is not a dream but it’s not real life either… I’ll settle on that, until I have a better grasp of what’s going on.”

He looks back at Bokuto and is met with the expression of someone who is wholly and completely lost.

“Er… I guess that’s okay… it’s not a dream but it is? I don’t really get it, but if it helps you, then…”

Akaashi is about to reply, but the echo of something strident coming from the distance makes him stiffen in surprise, his gaze shooting to the dark horizon. Bokuto does the same, his whole stance dropping as they both listen to the call fade. As it peters out, quieter dissonant howls follow suit before they cut off into silence.

“What was–“

“Shit, already?! I thought we’d have more time!” Bokuto’s aggravated snarl cuts him off and Akaashi yelps as the owlish man suddenly yanks him to the side and off the path, pulling him into the woody underbrush and under the cover of the thick canopies. His head swivels, looking all around like something is going to jump out at them.

Instinctively Akaashi pulls his arm free of his grip, but he ducks down as well, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes in Bokuto’s agitation. “What- what the hell was that?”

“Ssshh!” Bokuto whips on him with wide eyes, pressing a finger to his lips. “He knows you’re here! We gotta get away from the gate!”

“ _ He?  _ Who’s  _ he?” _

“The King! C’mon, follow me! I know a way!” With that Bokuto charges off into the brush, leaving Akaashi to scramble after him, doing awkward hops over the branches and shrubbery that he’s caught in.

_ King? Did he just say King? Probably in the castle. Right. _

__

Akaashi does his best to keep up, but Bokuto is very nimble for how broad he is, and the pace he sets is demanding. To his credit he stalls a bit when Akaashi lags too far behind, but it’s always accompanied with an impatient expression.

“C’mon Akaashi! I know you’ve got more in you!”

Any retort he could make is lost in his shortness of breath, his hand reaching up to push a branch out of his way. As much as he’d love to be fast, most of his energy is going toward not breaking his ankles on the uneven ground or getting smacked in the face. Luckily for him, after a while of running the dense brush is becoming sparser, and the earth beneath his feet is beginning to feel spongy and damp.

Akaashi thought that he wouldn’t be able to see apart from the lampposts, but it feels like his eyes have adjusted. It’s like the place is in a constant state of twilight; it’s bright enough to see, but too dim to read.

“Who-“ Akaashi takes a deep breath as he catches up, trying to steady his breathing. “Who is this King? How does he know I’m here? Is he…”

“Evil?” Bokuto is standing with his arms crossed, a knowing smile quirking on his lips as he gives Akaashi a side glance, not out of breath in the slightest. “Mmm… I don’t think so. But it’ll be bad news if he snatches you.”

_ Evil. _ It sounds so juvenile putting it that way, but… yes. Akaashi thinks it prudent to know if this person has ill intentions toward them – but considering they’re currently running away, the answer is obvious.

“He controls this whole world. I knew it was just a matter of time before he noticed, but…” Bokuto scrunches his nose, his irritation clear on his face. “You’ve only been here for like…  _ two minutes!”  _ He huffs. “Well, whatever. It’s probably cuz you’re special.” There’s a little twinkle in the gold of his eyes, something like pride as he regards Akaashi.

“That’s not-“

“C’mon! Down here!” His words fall on deaf ears as Bokuto suddenly hops forward, disappearing down a steep drop that makes Akaashi suck in a sharp breath of surprise.

When he steps forward to peer over the edge, expecting a flattened Bokuto below, he’s met with the sight of the man spread eagled on a huge bed of fluffy moss, a wide smile on his face. It makes Akaashi breathe a sigh of relief – while he’s not emotionally invested in a stranger’s well-being, the thought of being alone in this strange place is scary. “Bokuto-san! Don’t just- there could’ve been rocks under there! Be more careful.”

Bokuto waves a dismissing hand, his grin only widening. “Psh, don’t worry! I’ve done this a hundred times. Look, it’s bouncy.” He wiggles a little and his body moves up and down, almost like he’s on a trampoline. “C’mon! You jump too! It’s fun! I’ll move over.”

“No,” the refusal is immediate – Akaashi is already looking for a safer way down. “I’m not dropping down… what is this, seven meters? No. That’s– no.”

“Akaashiiiiii.” Bokuto purses his lips in disappointment. “Come onnnnn. You saw me do it! It’s fine!”

“No.”

“Scaredy cat.”

“Oops,” Akaashi  _ accidentally  _ kicks a rock over the edge, sending it tumbling down, and the sound of Bokuto shrieking as he scrambles away from it is honey-sweet. Is he being childish? Maybe, but it’s been a long night.

“AKAASHI! THAT ALMOST HIT ME! You’re so mean! What’s with you and rocks?!”

Akaashi sinks down to the ground and starts carefully climbing his way down, his feet searching for stable footholds while Bokuto makes a fuss beneath him. Much of the wall is rock, but there are deceptive patches of clay here and there, long ferns curling out from the cracks. Akaashi is startled when some of them shrink away when he brushes them, while others get caught on his legs and seem to cling to him.

Bokuto, realizing he’s being ignored, sulks on a nearby boulder. “It’d go faster if you just dropped. We’re kinda in a hurry, here.”

“I’m not going to-“ and just like that, about half of the way down, it happens. The rock he’d put his weight on suddenly breaks off the wall, and his scrambling attempts to hold his weight with his hands is in vain. He plummets the rest of the way, one curse leaving his lips before his back impacts something soft and spongy, bouncing him back into the air a little before his momentum ceases.

For a moment he lies like that in shock, his wide eyes taking in the dark sky while his heart thunders in his chest. He feels shaken, panicked, yet… unhurt. The moss below is soft just like Bokuto had said, almost like he’s lying in a plush bed.

Bokuto’s head pops into his field of view, staring at him upside-down and clearly back in high spirits. “Like that! See? It’s soft, isn’t it? I was right, wasn’t I?” There’s a bright twinkle in his eye, an expectant incline in his head.

Feeling frazzled, Akaashi can’t retort. “…Yes. You were right. I apologize for doubting you.”

The apology earns a bright smile, and Bokuto offers him a hand. “Hey hey! It’s okay. Now you can trust me from now on.”

_ I wouldn’t go that far. I only did it because I slipped. _ But Akaashi accepts the hand anyway, and Bokuto pulls him up.

Brushing himself off, Akaashi surveys the area. The ground slopes downward from the bed of moss, widening out into bogland that stretches as far as he can see. The water below is pitch black, and fog clings to the edges of it, obscuring what could lie beyond. There are little islands of brown grass poking up here and there, all connected by long planks of wood and dilapidated pipes that form makeshift bridges in between them. A lone lamppost sits on the centermost island, but no light comes from its bulb.

From the distance comes the grating sound once more; it sends a shiver up Akaashi’s spine. It sounds a bit like the screech of a bird, but more metallic.

“What  _ is _ that?”

“That’s the King’s uh…” Bokuto makes a face, rolling his wrist while he tries to think of a way to describe it. “Hunting bird? It’s kinda like-“ He spreads his arms out and makes claws with his hands, making himself look bigger. “Like an eagle, except HUGE! Like, way bigger than either of us. Listen,” he turns on Akaashi now, and puts both hands on his shoulders, staring intently into his eyes. “If you get caught by that guy… it’s game over! So if it gets close, just hide.”

Akaashi stares back, his eyes widening.  _ A giant killer eagle? That’s hunting us?  _ “What–“

Bokuto waves his arms, beginning to look antsy. “Listen! I know you have questions, but we gotta go, okay? Ask while we move!”

“…Alright.” As much as he’d like to sit down and understand everything before he goes running blindly off, he can recognize the importance of not getting caught by an evil king’s death bird first.

They move down the slope and onto the first of the bridges. The water gurgles beneath them, and Akaashi recoils at the sour smell that meets him. Must be gas from decomposing plant matter beneath the water’s surface – not that he can see very well. They balance their way across the first bridge, Bokuto lending a hand whenever his balance wobbles.

Now that they’re close up, Akaashi can see things floating around in the water.  _ Litter? _ He squints at a particularly bulky item that upon inspection seems to be a broken dollhouse.  _ What is this doing here? _ Despite his confusion he leaves it behind, not wanting to lag behind Bokuto.

The next bridge is a large pipe, and they both have to carefully shimmy across to avoid slipping on the slick algae that’s accumulated on top. Bokuto almost trips over something long and thin the moment he gets across, and he grumpily yanks it free and tosses it into the water. “GAH, I could’ve fallen in, there! This wasn’t here last time!”

Akaashi peers over and gets a glimpse of it before it disappears below: a jump rope, less decayed than some of the other things around. The farther along they go the more things Akaashi seems to notice – on the bank of this little island there’s a tattered stuffed rabbit, clinging to the grass. There are algae-covered trading cards scattered in the muck, and what looks like a child’s shinai standing upright in the water, impaled in the dirt below.

Bokuto doesn’t spare any of them a glance, except for when they get underfoot.

“What is all of this?”

At first, he thinks Bokuto doesn’t hear him, the question left hanging in the air for some time, but eventually he gets an answer. “…Forgotten things.”

_ Forgotten things? _

Maybe Bokuto can feel the confused stare at his back, because he continues: “That’s what this place is. The whole world, I mean. A place where forgotten things go.”

There’s a hint of bitterness in his tone that quiets the questions that remain in Akaashi’s mind.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He’s not sure why he says it – it just feels necessary.

_ Then… is Bokuto-san also–? _

__

“Here!” They eventually reach the end of the bog and Bokuto turns to help him across the final jump, all his cheer back like it’d never left. Bokuto’s hand is steadying on his back when they reach the bank, and Akaashi quickly detaches himself from him.

“Where exactly are we going?”

Bokuto points in the direction they’re headed, training Akaashi’s attention on a cobblestone path that bisects another murky body of water. In the distance he can barely make out the silhouette of something tall.

“We gotta get to the outer gate if we wanna move forward. Remember that hill we met on?” He gives Akaashi a side glance. “Technically that road is the fastest way to it, but the King’s bird knows that too, so it’s gonna be scouring that whole thing for us. We’d get picked off quick… so we gotta take the long way around!” He gives Akaashi a pat on the shoulder with enough force to make him cough. “Don’t mind, don’t mind! I’ll definitely protect you!”

“Right…” Akaashi presses his palm to his chest, just thankful that Bokuto’s heavy hand didn’t completely bowl him over. “The gate… to the castle, I assume.”

“Yep!”

With one last look behind them, they continue on.

Now that he’s aware of them, Akaashi notices more than before: toys, old clothes, half-finished finger paintings, and more, all in varying states of disrepair and decomposition. They cling to the creeping foliage, hide embedded in the path underfoot and float along the water’s edge.

Bokuto had called them forgotten things, but what does that mean exactly?

_ They’re all things for children, too.  _ Akaashi can’t imagine children playing in such a gloomy place. It feels like the more he sees of this place the less he understands, but he decides not to question Bokuto on the little details of it all; better to save that for when they’re somewhere safe from whatever bird creature is chasing them.

_ He seemed upset, too. Or perhaps I’m reading too much into it. _

His attention is pulled away from his thoughts when he realizes Bokuto has stopped ahead of him. They’re back on dry land now, on a cobblestone path framed by soft grasses and patches of mushrooms. Ahead of them is a tall rock ledge jutting out into a corner where the path forks. There’s a lamppost in the center of the fork, and the light it gives off flickers, illuminating the pale wings of flitting moths. Both paths look relatively similar.

Bokuto has his hand on his chin, his head bobbing side to side. There are deep, concentrated wrinkles in his brow that immediately makes Akaashi uneasy.

_ Don’t tell me… _

__

“Which way was it again…?”

Akaashi stares at him, dumbfounded. “Did you… get us  _ lost? _ I thought you said you’ve done this a hundred times!”

“We’re not  _ lost!”  _ Is the immediate, petulant reply, and Bokuto whirls on him with an offended huff. “It’s been a while! I only just got my body back, you know!” He frowns and grumbles to himself, his gaze switching between the two paths. “It’s been fine until now… I just gotta remember which one’s the right one. Lemme think…”

But it’s soon clear that they don’t have that kind of time.

As Bokuto talks to himself, Akaashi suddenly hears a different sound. It comes from behind them and to the left: the snapping of twigs, the rustling of bushes. When he turns to look, he sees a set of sharp canines glint against the light of the lamppost, and as it takes a step forward he can see a reddish pelt marred by globs of something pitch black. The beast only reaches to about Akaashi’s knee in height, but soon another one slinks out. And another.

“Bokuto–“ his voice is a warning; he takes a cautious step back.

“Give me a minute! I swear I have a mnemonic or something for this…”

One of the beasts snarls, and that same black ooze drips down from its maw onto the cobblestone. In the light Akaashi recognizes it as a jackal. There’s a whole pack of them.

Akaashi is done waiting. “WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE!”

Bokuto finally turns, nearly jumping out of his feathers when he sees the pack of snarling wild dogs behind them. His deliberations done, he grabs Akaashi’s arm and yanks him toward the path leading to the right, and the two make a mad break for it. “I HOPE THIS IS THE RIGHT WAY!!”

The moment they move, the whole pack begins to give chase. They fan out to flank the two from the side, a few of them staying behind and gaining on them from the rear. Through the blood pumping in his ears, Akaashi can hear the huffs of their breaths and their barks from behind him. He knows in his gut that there’s no way they can outrun the pack. At this rate the jackals will be biting at their heels.

The path begins to slope downward, and the grass to the right of them rises up beside them until the dogs giving chase are now a meter above them. Akaashi watches them from below with fear-filled eyes:  _ are they going to drop on us? _

Just before the dogs catch up, Bokuto makes a sharp turn to the left and Akaashi has to skid in order to do the same. They sprint off the cobblestone path and down a trail lined with big mushrooms. Keening howls ring in the air behind them as the pack adjusts their course, and in the distance Akaashi hears it: the screech of the bird. It definitely knows where they are now.

_ Shit, shit shit! How are we going to get out of this? THINK, Akaashi! _

But he can’t. The fear is paralyzing, the imminent threat of oozing fangs and a  _ huge evil bird _ blocking out his rational thought. All he can think is  _ run, run faster. You have to get away. _

__

“Don’t let them touch you!” Bokuto’s voice rings out clearly, and Akaashi focuses on it instead of his doomed thoughts.  _ Right. Focus on his back. Just keep up, don’t think about other things. I can do this, I can do this, I can’t do this, I can’t– _

__

The mushrooms around them are growing in size until they’re reaching the height of small trees. Akaashi stumbles and barely manages to scramble away before one of them can sink its teeth into his leg. The jackals are slowing down now – forming a half moon around the two as they begin to close in.

Were he more naïve, Akaashi might’ve thought they were giving up, but that’s not what this is. They’re closing off all routes of escape because Bokuto and Akaashi have run into a dead end. Tall mushrooms frame the sides of a concave wall of earth and rock. Bokuto looks for a way to climb it, but the wall is slick with water, lacking good handholds. 

The jackals are moving in, black ooze dripping down from their eyes and teeth.

And now there’s nowhere to go.


End file.
